


Sense of the Art

by Muffie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Beginnings, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-29
Updated: 2012-03-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 16:17:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muffie/pseuds/Muffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John thinks he can hide chocolate from Rodney. Elizabeth, Carson, and Lorne think John and Rodney need some help figuring things out. [First Posted: May 20, 2009]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sense of the Art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tarlan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/gifts).



> For Tarlan, who had some annoying issues with her archives a little while ago. I thought she could use a happy story. Though, there's an awful lot of revenge getting for a feel-good fic. 
> 
>  
> 
> _With a curtsey to comedienne Jeanne Robertson, whose hammer I gakked._

It was the ultimate betrayal. Rodney had snuck into his quarters and stabbed him in the back with the poisoned blade of disrespect for personal boundaries and friendship. There, inside of the FMFRP 0-1B, otherwise known as the USMC's physical readiness training manual, that John had inherited from Sumner, was nothing but an empty space. He'd carefully cut pages out of it to make a hidey hole that no one would ever touch because, seriously, who wanted to _read_ Uncle Sam's Misguided Children's physical readiness training manual? Besides Sumner? Well, Ronon might for a laugh. They just stole it from the Army anyway. It was boring. Okay, so what if he'd read some of it out loud to Rodney? That was a vital part of his brilliant plan to make sure Rodney would never want to have anything to do with it again. And then he'd cut his little hidey hole into it and stashed his chocolate and vacuum-sealed gourmet coffee in it (so sealed because everyone knew Rodney could sniff out coffee beans like one of those drug sniffing dogs at the airport). And just now, when he'd gone for a well deserved Hershey's Kiss to melt on his tongue after finishing up every single performance review for every single body under his command, nothing.

That dirty sneak had found his stash and took it all! It could only be Rodney. Only Rodney could get into his quarters when he specifically told the City to lock the doors. Only Rodney could find the chocolate he'd hidden so brilliantly. Only Rodney would be such an addict that he'd stoop so low to get his fix.

Well. 

John tucked the book back in its place and flopped onto his bed. He'd have to get his revenge.

***

"Goddammit, Kavanagh! When Carson gives you the next physical, tell him to forget the MRI to check for your brain. He'll need the rubber gloves because he'll find it up your ass!" Rodney bellowed. It was muffled by the wall he was up to his ribs in through an access panel, with his butt in the air. His butt was in the air, where any idiot could find a quick piece of revenge. "You kick me and you'll be showering with the marines!"

There was silence.

"Kavanagh?"

Nothing.

"Goddammit!" Rodney wriggled out of the access to find the hallway empty. "I'm gonna kill that moron!"

John picked that precise moment to do his vocal live and let live, let's have a beer impression on the com. "Hey Rodney?"

"What!"

"Just got back from a quick flight."

Rodney snorted.

"Hey! It was quick! Jumper One is a little off her game today. Can you come up and see what's wrong with her?"

Rodney knew his face was turning red. "No, I can't fix your insignificant little problem right now. Kavanagh screwed up a relay from the number four power station and I'm the only person who can apparently do anything right around here!"

"Want me to beat him up for you?"

"Would you?"

"No. Jeez, Rodney."

"Then what good are you? Shoo! Go find someone else to bother." Rodney crawled back into the access. "Who in the hell hired him?"

"You did, Chief Science Officer." John was smirking. He could hear it.

"Oh, shut up."

"Sheppard out."

Rodney wrinkled his nose and reached for a wire. "Finally." 

Thirty minutes later, he'd gotten half of the problem unsnarled. The other half looked like John's hair when he overslept on meeting day. Kavanagh was a decent physicist on paper. He'd read the man's dissertation and even if it wasn't brilliant, it was better than most. Still, he couldn't get into a set of wires without turning them into gutted fishing line. Someday, Rodney was going to track down the person Kavanagh had to have plagiarized that diss from and hire him or her instead.

"Hey, Rodney?" John suddenly said over the com. There was a loud, shifting sound. Like metal on metal. He'd better not be sparring with Teyla with metal weapons.

Rodney grunted and checked the crystal he desperately hoped was the problem, but probably wasn't. "I'm busy. I'm not fixing the jumper. Quit playing with Teyla. She keeps kicking your butt and you spend too much time in the infirmary already. Carson'll think we abuse you and I don't have time to sit in one of those stupid little chairs he keeps next to the beds. He'd just take the opportunity to whine at me about what he mistakenly considers proper nutrition and I have important work to do."

"Oh, I'm not sparring and I know you're too busy to fix the jumper. It's probably just a minor problem anyway. I got it covered." John made that metal on metal noise again. "I found the tool box. I've got wrenches and screwdrivers. Where's the hammer?"

Rodney slammed his head into the pipe above him. "What?!"

"The hammer, Rodney. It has a flat surface on one side, a claw thing on the other side and a long handle. You know what one looks like."

"Zelenka!" Rodney bellowed. "Get to the jumper bay, now!"

"Ow!" John whined over the com. "Quit yelling in my ear. Radek's on the mainland today."

Rodney started wriggling. "Get the hell away from the jumper, you idiot! You're going to break something!"

"I am not. I'm just going to take a look. I can fix cars and some planes, you know," John said. "It's not _that_ hard. Hey, it's one of those big closey-openy wrenches. I can use that like a hammer. Cool." There were a couple of metal tinks, like the big adjustable wrench used for pipes hitting a screwdriver or worse, one of the jumper's access panels. 

Rodney wriggled faster.

"Sorry to bother you, Rodney," John said cheerfully. "I got it covered now. Sheppard out."

"Put that wrench down! John!"

There was silence on the com.

"Fuck!" Rodney bellowed. He threw himself the rest of the way out of the access, climbed to his feet, and sprinted down the hallway.

He was breathing like a Kentucky Derby winner at the end of the race and jogging, it was a fast jog, but still jogging, by the time he reached the jumper bay. Stackhouse was leaning against Jumper One's cargo door, wringing his hands. He glanced at Rodney, walleyed, and then stared back into the jumper. "Sir? Are you sure—" metal on metal banging sounds came out. Stackhouse winced. "Oooh. Should you be doing that, sir?"

The banging stopped and John's voice drifted out. "Don't be such a worrywart. I got it covered."

The banging started up again. "But sir...."

Rodney found out he could sprint some more after all. "Colonel!" He gasped for air. "Put that," he gasped again, "down!"

John, sitting comfortably in the jump seat in the cargo area with an open toolbox at his feet, banged two wrenches together. He grinned. "Something wrong, Rodney?"

Stackhouse snickered and slinked off across the bay.

"What in the hell," Rodney sucked in some more air, "are you doing?"

"Me? Just banging some wrenches together." John waggled them in the air, then smacked them together. "What about you? Doing a little physical readiness training?"

Rodney froze, then forced himself to visibly bristle. The best defense was a good offense. "No, you nitwit. I was coming to save your precious jumper from your boundless stupidity." He looked around the jumper's interior, but could see no signs of mistreatment from the Neanderthal.

"I thought you might be putting into practice the fruits of your morning reading."

Rodney's eyes narrowed.

"Did you eat all of it?" John asked mildly.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

John smirked that annoying, I'm happy to see you, miss hottie alien princess, smirk. "All of my mocha truffles."

"Moch—there weren't any mocha tru—" Rodney shut his mouth with an audible click.

John's smirk got even smarmier. 

He lifted his chin. "I was just making sure you shared the same way I share my coffee with you."

"You stole all of my kisses!"

"You only had half of the pound left, so I only took my fair share." Rodney shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I usually take mine a little bit at a time, but it's been pretty hectic around here lately so I couldn't get around to it. Couldn't we trade Kavanagh off next time we need food?"

John 's brows dropped down like an inverted Witch of Agnesi curve. "How long have you been doing this?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Since you waved that ridiculous exercise book in my face and dared me to. It's practically an open invitation to share your private stash."

John's jaw dropped open. "You _knew_?"

"Please. Genius here. I figured out what you were up to when you started reading the best of jumping jacks and other forms of stupid torture. Subtle, you're not." Rodney eyed John speculatively. "Speaking of which. Is there a reason why you've suddenly switched from the mini candy bars to kisses?"

"Like the way they melt on my tongue better. They last longer and I can rub the tip along the roof of my mouth. It tickles." John's eyebrows were twitching, but still in the inverted Witch of Agnesi. "Are you implying something, Rodney?"

"You're a closet sex fiend."

"You're nuts!"

"You've been giving me those chocolate kisses for the last two visits from the Daedelus." Rodney crossed his arms over his chest. 

John's eyebrows went parabolic, inverted. "I haven't been giving you my chocolate! You _stole_ it from me!"

"I have not! You dared me to take it, so I did."

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did n—"

"Children!" Elizabeth shouted from the jumper's open cargo door. "What is going on here?"

John crossed his arms over his chest. "Rodney broke into my quarters—"

"They were wide open. No breaking in required," Rodney said with a dismissive wave.

"—stole my private cache of chocolate—"

"I didn't _steal_ anything. It's _our_ private cache of chocolate and I was just getting my share." 

"—and now he's trying to talk his way out of it."

Elizabeth started rubbing her temples. "John, you're the commander of the military contingent of our expedition."

John's lip rolled into a pout and Rodney sneered at him. Weakling.

"Rodney," Elizabeth continued, "you're in charge of the science contingent of our expedition."

Rodney frowned. 

"You're grown men with leadership responsibilities. Act like it!"

Rodney looked at John and, in perfect accord, they both rolled their eyes, and said, "Yes, Mom."

She arched an eyebrow at them. "Are you two finished arguing like children?"

Rodney sucked in a lungful of air. "I never argue—"

John's hand suddenly clamped over his mouth. "We're finished." Rodney was going to do something heinous. Like pre-program flight max parameters into the jumper so it would fly like a geriatric garbage truck with one working piston when John was at the controls.

Elizabeth didn't look convinced. "Look, officially I don't know about you two, but unofficially, some of the senior staff and I are getting a little tired of this. Please keep your marital spats private in the future, all right? In the interest of peace and harmony for the expedition. It doesn't help morale when the two of you are fighting in public like this."

John's hand slipped away and Rodney felt his eyes bugging out. "Excuse me? You think Sheppard and I are—" Rodney's hands didn't know what to do with themselves, so they sort of waved in the air. 

"It's one of the worst kept secrets on Atlantis, Rodney. Honestly, people have seen you going in and out of John's quarters at all hours since the beginning." Elizabeth tilted her head and smiled faintly. "It put me in something of an awkward position at first, but we weren't in contact with Earth and I had more important things to worry about than the military's rules. And honestly, it's good for morale here. The military members of the expedition have been more accepting of you, Rodney, and of the civilians in general. And the civilians have developed a larger trust in your leadership, John. So I let it continue. Though, I'll have to ask that you keep your fights contained to your quarters, gentlemen."

Rodney huffed up. "I was getting my share of chocolate! We're not—"

John's hand clamped over his mouth again. "We can do that."

Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you."

Rodney bit that jerk. The hand twitched, but didn't move.

"I'll just leave you two alone to work this out," she said, then stepped out of the jumper and closed its door.

John dropped his hand. "You didn't have to bite me!"

"You didn't have to grab me!"

"You were going to say something stupid."

"I was not!"

"You were—never mind. Can you eavesdrop on Elizabeth's com without her knowing? From here?"

What was he up to? Rodney narrowed his eyes. "It is me you're talking to."

"Well hurry up and do it!"

Rodney pulled his fourth spare laptop from its holder and flipped it open. It took a few seconds to hack into the com system and almost a full minute to get Elizabeth's humming over the speakers in the jumper. Rodney gave John a disgusted look. "Why are we doing this?"

Elizabeth greeted Chuck, then went into her office and closed the door.

"Did it work?" a male voice asked, muffled by its distance to Elizabeth's com.

"Lorne," John said.

"If not, we'll have to strand them on some backwater planet until they figure it out," Elizabeth said.

Somewhere in the background, Carson said, "Rodney's not very bright. It'll probably come to that."

"Hey!" Rodney shot to his feet. John put a hand on his shoulder and shoved him down.

"What was it this time?" Lorne asked.

"Something about stolen chocolate? John thought he could hide chocolate from Rodney."

All three of them laughed. Rodney reached for the laptop to bring up the City's plumbing control systems. Those three were going to pay.

John grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands away. Make that four sufferers of his wrath. "Wait."

"They're laughing at us," Rodney said. He pointed at the laptop, even though there was no image. "Laughing!"

"Are you listening to them? They're trying to set us up!"

Rodney waved at hand at the speakers, where the three stooges were trying to figure out how to maroon them on a deserted planet. "Oh, that. Carson has a talking points list about all of your great qualities that he whips out at the weirdest times. Elizabeth keeps hinting that you can help me take care of my frustration problems with a nice evening to ourselves. Lorne keeps telling me how many pushups you can do. I think Radek's in on it, but it's hard to tell. He can be a cagey little bastard. They've been doing it for years. Haven't you been paying attention?"

"What?! Why?!"

"Apparently you have many great qualities that make you an eligible bachelor besides your ability to turn on Ancient tech, you do pushups without your shirt on, and you can take care of my frustration problems. Elizabeth keeps making suggestive comments about the way you eat hot dogs."

John flopped into the pilot's chair and brooded at the windscreen. 

Rodney frowned. "You mean you didn't notice?"

"No, I didn't notice my colleagues trying to hook me up with my _male_ friend."

Rodney squinted at him. "Huh. Normally, I'm the one that misses these things. It's why I had a cat instead of a girlfriend."

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"That you're an oblivious idiot?"

John turned his head to glare. "No. It means we have to get revenge." 

What in the heck was wrong with John? He wasn't usually so slow. Rodney reached for the laptop. "I was doing that before you stopped me."

John snorted. "Right. Cutting off hot water to their quarters is great revenge. You need to exercise a little creativity."

***

Rodney hadn't stopped bitching for the last four hours. John, not for the first time, wished he had a zat. One good shot and both of them would have some peace for a while.

"This isn't revenge, this is stupid!" Rodney yowled for the billionth time.

Just one zat. He'd beg Caldwell to smuggle him one. Hell, he'd sleep with Caldwell if he had to. "It was your idea."

"No, _my_ idea was to keep them in cold water for the rest of their stay on Atlantis. _Your_ idea was to get creative."

John rolled his eyes. "We'll have a fun filled week on the beach while they have to live without us."

"We could have had a fun filled week closer to the gate."

"Quit complaining. You liked the beach."

Rodney huffed. "That's before we started on this death march."

"It's two miles from the gate. You aren't that out of shape." John rolled his shoulders and settled his standard mission pack into a better position. "Or do you need some physical readiness training? After eating all that chocolate you stole?"

"Not that again. I said I was sorry."

And John didn't believe a word of it. 

"I am sorry."

John didn't look back.

"Colonel," Rodney said. Rodney huffed and puffed in annoyance, like the three billy goats gruff—or was that the three little pigs?—and trotted to catch up. "John, I meant it. I'm sorry I misunderstood. I'm sorry I broke into your quarters. I'm sorry I stole your chocolate."

John slowed his strides and let him catch up.

Rodney peered at him with big, blue eyes. "Does this mean you forgive me?"

"Maybe. If you can make this a bitching free week."

Rodney nodded. "I'll do my best."

John smiled and settled into an easy walk that Rodney usually had no trouble keeping up with. Not that he was marching beyond Rodney's capabilities before, but there wasn't any reason to push it now that he wasn't annoying. 

"How long do you think it'll take them to come get us?"

"A day. Max." John's smile melted into an evil grin. "That was sheer genius using Kavanagh like that."

Rodney preened. "I never thought he'd make himself useful."

"I think your science people are going to revolt and kill you."

Rodney waved his hands and wrinkled his face. "I sent the ones that can halfway think to the help Zelenka at the Alpha Site. He probably suspects something."

John shrugged under the pack. "We'll get him some copper tubing for his still."

"So, a week with Kavanagh in charge and a piece of Ancient tech sitting out on my workbench right in the middle where even that moron can't miss it. Carson will be in the labs turning the thing on and off before we even reach the beach. I made him promise to be available to my department in your place in front of all the scientists in order to get me to go on this wild goose chase with you."

"Elizabeth will be swamped with complaints and Carson's bitching. Carson will be swamped with complaints and light switch duty. Lorne will be swamped with complaints and all of the performance reviews that have to be done, including Kavanagh's. Perfect." John allowed himself a few minutes to gloat.

"Just in case Kavanagh manages to screw this up like everything else, the plumbing is all set to run nothing but cold water in the showers all over the City tomorrow morning. If we're lucky, Kavanagh will think it's because of the device on my workbench and we'll be home by lunch."

They topped a brief rise and the beach spilled in front of them like manna from heaven. The planet's second smallest ocean lapped at it. "I plan on staying the entire week unless Atlantis is attacked or is going to blow up. And so are you. We're getting revenge, not planning ways on making them miss us."

"Fine," Rodney groused, making a bee-line for the supplies John had secreted here a few days ago. "Just get the tent set up, will you? I've got things to do."

John shook his head. "A whole week of doing zero point theory calculations. How can you stand the excitement?"

The loud and demanding crunch-shuffle-complain of Rodney's footsteps through the sand quit. John stopped and looked back, over his shoulder. Rodney stood in a puddle of churned up sand, his pack drooping and his uniform melting. "You think I'm boring?"

"No, I don't think you're boring. I think you need to take a vacation. All work and no play makes Rodney grumpy."

Rodney scowled. His eyebrows went down, his arms crossed over his chest, and his bottom lip stuck out kind of like a two year old who just got told no. It was cute.

"Don't get your panties in a wad. You'll have plenty of time for sciencey stuff. I just want a few complaint-free hours every morning for non-sciencey stuff. Otherwise, I'll bug the hell out of you and you won't get anything done."

A sly look settled on Rodney's face. Yup. Vintage Rodney. "One hour every other morning." 

"Nope. At least three hours every morning, non-negotiable. If you want to play longer, that's up to you. But no less than three hours. You can do what you want for the rest of the day, except for six hours a night, when you will sleep." John grinned. "Don't worry. I won't make you do any surfing. Dunno what's in the ocean here."

"One hour every morning."

John didn't think his grin could get bigger, but it did. "Three hours a morning, or I'm dropping your laptop in the ocean."

"Fine. Three hours and not one minute more."

John watched Rodney's left eyelid twitch and the creases in his lips turn just a bit whiter. That brain was kicked into overdrive and not in a good way. At least not if your name was John, and his name was John. "When you get even, I'll just get even right back."

Rodney sniffed.

John put on his laziest grin just because he knew it annoyed Rodney to no end. "Let's get camp set up."

The next morning, he shook Rodney awake well after the suns had risen and handed him a steaming cup of fresh coffee. The good stuff. Rodney peered around the tent that still managed a bit of gloom, despite the fact that it was so late in the morning. Almost ten on a 28 hour cycle, local time, according to his watch. Rodney sipped the coffee and glared at him, the evil colonel. Rodney had given him specific orders to wake him up at the crack of dawn to get the stupid three hours of wasted time out of the way so he could get on to the important things.

The evil colonel grinned back. "Sleep well?"

Rodney sniffed in disdain and took another sip.

"You didn't even snore, so I think you did."

"What kind of torture do you have planned for me this morning? I want to get it over with as soon as possible."

"I'm sure you do. How about breakfast first and then I'll start torturing you?"

"You can torture me while we do breakfast." Rodney waggled the coffee cup, checking for drops.

"Nope. First breakfast, then three hours of Rodney torture."

"Slave driver."

"Gee, and I didn't bring the harem outfit for you." John smirked strictly to annoy Rodney and not because of images of Rodney in diaphanous pants.

Rodney's face twisted up in that pugnacious expression that made him look ready to blow, but he wasn't quite sure at what just yet. "When did you become a eunuch, Captain Kirk?"

John laughed. "C'mon, I made your favorite for breakfast."

Rodney's entire being brightened.

"One country chicken MRE, coming up." He tossed Rodney the package and grabbed one for himself. "I'm having," he checked the label, "pork rib. Trade ya."

"No way. That one has clam chowder."

"Yuck."

Rodney cut open the MRE and tore into the dessert. "What are you torturing me with?"

"Got a blanket spread out there in a shady spot. Thought we'd play Go."

Rodney wrinkled his nose, a pop tart dangling from his lips. "Go?"

"You know, the Japanese chess type game. Neither of us knows how to play. I brought some instructions. It'll level the playing field. Or is your super genius afraid to take on my brilliant military strategic mind?"

Rodney swallowed the pop tart and rolled his eyes. "Please, is that the best psychological warfare you can do? No wonder you can never get Teyla to do what you tell her to do."

John gritted his teeth, then forced his jaw to relax. "It wasn't psychology."

"Good, because you suck at it. I can beat you at Go anyway. Easy."

John just smirked.

***

Rodney became aware that time had passed when his stomach stabbed at him with hunger. He looked up from the board and blinked around at the shiny beach.

John tilted his head, frowning. Rodney would swear on a stack of Greek mathematicians that certain thatches of John's hair rotated specifically to maintain a perpendicular stance. "What's up?"

Rodney checked his watch. He point a finger at John. "It's three o'clock!"

John shrugged. "You were having so much fun; I didn't have the heart to break it to you that your three hours were up."

Rodney scowled.

"Admit it, buddy. You were having fun." John smiled at him. An honest to goodness smile and not one of those grins, smirks, or any number of facial contortions he pulled off on a regular basis. It made John seem like the few moments of time Rodney calculated the flight trajectory of Halley's Comet for Jeannie, gentle and approachable.

Rodney made himself scowl more. "Okay, I was having fun."

"See?" John continued to relax on the blanket and smile.

"This is what you planned? To just lay around and play games?"

John nodded. "Pretty much."

"No running? Marching? Sparring?"

"Nope."

"Why the hell not?"

John's smile softened, like the picture of the Oort Cloud that idiot sorority girl Rodney had to tutor through half of his sophomore year at the university had in her head. And he didn't even get sex in exchange for putting up with her. Why was he thinking in similes? "We're on vacation. That means I get to relax and so do you. You're idea of relaxing is doing physics. So, do some physics."

Rodney looked down at the half-finished game of Go. His face wrinkled up and he wanted to yell at someone. "It's still my turn. We'll finish this and then I'll work on zero point theory. I'm going to beat you this time."

John just smiled that Oort Cloud smile. "Sure you'll win. Just like last game?"

Rodney let himself smile back. "You cheated."

John lifted his eyebrows. "Oh yeah? How?"

"You used the tactics of a stupid man, which you are not." Rodney placed one of his stones on the board.

"Knew you'd fall for it. Need to think outside the box in more places than just science." John pushed at the stones in his pile, the put one on the board. "Like here."

Rodney frowned. "I do."

"Sometimes." John shrugged. "You said it yourself, you're not a people person. Non-people people have problems reading opponents sometimes. All I'm saying."

Rodney dragged his bottom lip across his teeth and thought about that. Several moves passed while he thought about that. "It doesn't work. I know you too well."

John looked up from the board. "What?"

"The outside the box people person garbage. I know you so I don't have to think outside the box. You're in it with me already." Rodney moved a stone.

John stared at the board. "Guess I am."

"So you cheated."

John glared at him. "I pass, and I did not cheat. I outsmarted you."

Rodney waved a hand. "Impossible. You cheated." He looked down at the board and regarded his territories. "You cheated again!"

John squinted at the board, obviously counting up points. "I didn't cheat. You can be outsmarted."

"Keep telling yourself that."

John piled all of the stones on the board and set it aside. He flopped onto his back and sighed gustily. "I cheated and the great Rodney McKay's record of flawless victory at Go is untarnished. Feel better?"

Rodney flopped beside him, shoulder butting John's shoulder and his bare foot slapping John's bare foot. "No." He glared at the fronds above him. "You beat me."

"Want me to kick my ass for you?"

Rodney chuckled and shook his head.

"It'll be okay, Rodney. You win half the time." John patted his hand. "Besides, it wouldn't be any fun if you won all the time, would it? Where'd the challenge be?"

He rolled onto his side, scooting over so he wouldn't run into John. "I guess you're right." He was eye to eye with John's temple and a thatch of hair.

John rolled over, too, so they faced each other. "So what do you think of my torture Rodney methods?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's lacking in torture. Not as much fun as zero point theory, but it was fun." He smiled. "I enjoyed it."

"Me, too." John's eyes were all crinkled up, like he was smiling, too. Rodney couldn't tell because their faces were so close.

He tried to think of something to say, but all he could hear in his head was Elizabeth saying that she was okay with their "relationship" providing they kept it in the bedroom. He licked his lips and he heard John do the same thing. 

John leaned forward.

Rodney didn't move.

John's lips were there, all of the sudden, right on his. Only it wasn't all of the sudden, it was more like his command style. Lazy without being lazy. Laconic without being laconic. Lacka—oh god, John was kissing him! Rodney's eye's widened like one of those stupid romance novel girls, not that he would know anything about stupid romance novel girls, but that's probably what their eyes did when they suddenly found themselves kissed by what most of the women agreed was one of the hunkiest men on Atlantis. They never included Rodney on that list. 

Why was John, of all people, kissing Rodney?

And a really nice kiss, too. Not one of those fake Hollywood backbreaker types that Clark Grater laid on Vapid Leigh in that American South war movie. It was nicer. It was lips that said they cared clinging to lips in that weird way only lip flesh can cling. Maybe it was the moisture content inherent in lips. Maybe it was the way John's lips were slowly moving over his.

Maybe it was just his lips because his felt clinging when John pulled away and it didn't appear that John's did any clinging.

"Quit thinking." John rapped him on the forehead with his knuckles. Not very hard, but it was the principle of the thing. 

Rodney wanted to rub his head, but he didn't want to move because he didn't want John to move either, but he didn't want.... Well. He didn't want things to get stupid. "Unlike _some_ people, I can't just turn my brain off. Genius here."

"Then start thinking about the right thing and not the wrong thing."

Maybe moving wouldn't be such a bad thing. "How do you know I was thinking the wrong thing? I never think the _wrong_ thing."

"I was kissing you, Rodney."

"I noticed."

John sighed and flopped onto his back. "You didn't want me to."

Rodney glared at the side of John's head. John was staring at the greenery overhead, so couldn't appreciate it. "I'm not the one that stopped."

"You did. One second you were kissing me back, and then you stopped. What were you thinking about?"

"I was wondering why you were kissing _me_ , Captain Kirk." No matter how sarcastic he managed to make that sound, Rodney still wanted to rip the words out of the air and stuff them into a dark hidey hole.

"Captain Kirk and Spock were doing it," John said. He waved a hand over their heads, as if the leaves above them encompassed the Star Trek universe. "All those alien princesses were fag hags. It's why they always tried to kill him. Not some convoluted political plot, but because he was more interested in Spock's ass than theirs."

"Are you _insane_?"

"Why do you think Spock was so annoyed by pon farr? Got in the way of his nookie with his real honey." John was grinning. Rodney could hear it.

"Kirk and Spock?" The idea was just insane. For one, Kirk had no aptitude for math.

"Science officers are sexy, you know."

"Of course science officers are sexy, but Kirk isn't! The man wouldn't know a quark from quartz, let alone a quadratic from a quadriplegic." 

John rolled back onto his side, propping his head up on his palm, bent elbow digging into their blanket. "I do."

Rodney wanted to smack him. Hard. "You could be in Mensa now."

"Nahh. Got more interesting things to do."

Rodney couldn't help but feel all squirmy inside with John looking at him _that_ way. He leaned forward and smooched John quickly, then stood up. "Well. I have zero point theory to get into."

John smiled up at him. "See? Sexy."

Rodney tried to sniff disdainfully, but it sounded funny. He suspected he was blushing like a tomato. He shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Yeah, okay. Going now." 

John just kept smiling.

Rodney frowned. Wasn't there some kind of goodbye ritual they should enact? 

John eventually patted Rodney's leg. "I'll see you later, Spock."

Rodney did blush for certain. "Okay." And there was definite scuttling instead of his usual confident stride when he headed for his laptop. Oh boy.

***

John lounged on the blanket and considered the two kisses he'd had. He'd been doing it for hours after Rodney had disappeared. Those kisses were the best ones he'd had since leaving Earth, definitely, since he didn't really go around kissing people and the few people he had kissed, while pleasantish weren't anything to write home about. Kissing Rodney had been so much better. Even that half second peck before Rodney ran off to hide in the tent was pretty damned good. John hadn't been able to stop smiling since. He hadn't planned on kissing Rodney, he'd just got lost in those blue eyes. He was a sucker for intelligence and indignation. If he said, "washer method," Rodney's mind would go straight to elementary calculus instead of two people writhing on top of a machine's spin cycle at the laundromat. And she'd been a grad student in math, too. And then Rodney would get pissy because he chose the washer method instead of some other method that might be more elegant in some weird Rodney way.

John had a whispered confession, made in complete drunkenness, to his mother at age 19 that he was attracted to a male English major. He wasn't sure what horrified him more, the Beat poets the guy was always spouting on about or the fact he was a guy. His mother had said it was the person, not the package, but to not tell his father who thought that particular saying meant that it was okay to love a person even if _she_ came in a somewhat plain body. Then he'd graduated, joined the Air Force and Don't Ask, Don't Telled his way merrily through a string of female companions. And now.

Elizabeth had all but said everyone on Atlantis was okay with him fucking Rodney, even her. Elizabeth was in on the plot to get the two of them together. That kind of thing put Don't Ask, Don't Tell to bed, at least for now in this command. After that, well, if they rotated him out of Atlantis, he planned to retire his commission anyway. He could get Rodney or Elizabeth to bring him back as a civilian contractor. Surely light switch duties with his math degree would do _something_ to get him back home.

So, no external impediments to getting Rodney in the sack and keeping him there. Just Rodney himself. Rodney didn't seem to have that much of a problem with the idea of John _and_ Rodney instead of plain old John and Rodney. This could—

"...dinna care! Give me that thing, Major, or you'll be in my infirmary for a full physical!" 

"But, we can't just—"

"I dinna care!" Carson roared. "I canna take any more! Rodney will return to the city if I must drag him by the ear!"

John sat up.

Rodney's head popped out of the tent. "What the hell is going on?"

Carson and Lorne popped over the rise. Carson marched directly toward the tent, and Rodney, looking like a man ready to kill Wraith. Lorne paused at the rise, then shuffled toward John.

"Sir, I—"

Carson started ranting in Gaelic. Rodney stared at him, mouth flopped open like a bass, before he retreated into the tent. Carson chased after him.

John lounged back on his hands, crossed his ankles, and tilted his head to peer up at Lorne. "You want to explain this, Major?"

Lorne sighed and stared at his own feet. "Doctor Beckett, sir, well, he—"

"I dinna care what you're working on!" Carson bellowed. "You're coming home and that's that!"

"He's having problems with Doctor Kavanagh." Lorne rocked on his heels, his eyes shifting to the right then toward the sky. "Frankly, sir, it's all we can do to keep the marines from killing him. He broke the city's plumbing."

John raised his brows. "He _broke_ the city's plumbing? How do you _break_ an entire city's plumbing?"

"Well, sir—"

"No!" Beckett yelled. Things started flying out of the tent. "No! You can return to your theories later, when Radek is around to take charge in your place! What were you thinking putting...."

"He seems a little upset," John observed.

"Get your hands off of that, you witch doctor!" Rodney yelled. 

"Then you come home!"

Lorne winced. "Doctor Kavanagh has had him in the labs a lot. There's a device that makes a series of noises and flashing lights. Doctor Kavanagh insists it's an energy source."

John watched his underwear come flying out of the tent. "It's not?"

"It has an annoying melody. Doctor Beckett can't get it out of his head."

"Ah."

"Doctor Weir thinks it best if you both return to Atlantis, sir. There are some...problems."

"Doctor Weir said it was crucial for Rodney to fiddle around with this planet's energy fields. It's going to power the ZPMs if he can figure it out. No time to waste. Plus," John gestured at the ocean, "beach. I think you'll do okay. Just one of the responsibilities of command, Major. You're ready for it."

Lorne squared his shoulders and lifted his chin. "Doctor Weir has made it an order, sir. Even if you remain, Doctor McKay is to return to Atlantis. Doctor Kavanagh is planning on rerouting power—"

"What?" Rodney bellowed. "Colonel! Pack it up, now! We've got to get there before that moron sinks the city and destroys all of my work."

John hoisted himself to his feet. "Can't have that."

"No!" Rodney snatched his laptop from Carson. "He'll destroy all of my research!"

John's lip quirked. "Nice to know your priorities are in order. Let's go let save Atlantis before Kavanagh kills everyone."

***

Rodney liberally blamed the child's toy for the plumbing malfunction. Zelenka wouldn't have bought it for a minute, but all the people who knew anything were off planet at the moment. Kavanagh whined at Elizabeth for a while about how unfair everyone was and how much of a jerk Rodney was, pretty much business as usual. With the hot water restored, the troops were in a much better mood and the angry lynch mob died down.

The best part, though, was Carson, Elizabeth, and the Major slinking around exchanging relieved yet guilty looks. John was right. This creativity thing was a lot better than his usual methods. Of course, it was missing a piece of satisfaction. They didn't know they'd been had. They didn't know Rodney's genius was the cause of their suffering. But that was fine. There was a lot more suffering for their matchmaking and laughing at Rodney ways going around from spending some time off world with John playing Go and kissing than just turning the hot water off. He frowned. Funny how things worked out.

Rodney made sure no one was looking, then knocked on John's door.

John opened the door, wearing only the bottom half of his uniform. Rodney's heart started palpitating and his palms started sweating. God, he was having a heart attack!

John sighed gustily, grabbed Rodney by the wrist and dragged him into the room. "Calm down, Rodney."

"I am calm!"

John lifted both eyebrows.

"I am."

"Okay, you're calm."

"I'm calm." Rodney started hyperventilating.

"Put your head between your knees and breathe." John pushed him down, so he sat on the bed. 

"I'm having a heart attack, not committing auto-fellatio!"

John squatted in front of him. His thigh muscles shifted and bunched under the loose black pants, his spread knees pulling them taut. Oh boy. "You're not having a heart attack."

He wrinkled up his nose. "Maybe not, but it feels like it!" He looked up and John's nipples were right in his face. "Put a shirt on!"

John grinned and his chest muscles rippled. "Feeling a little hot and bothered, Rodney?"

He tried to sneer, but he had the horrible sensation that it wasn't working. "No. I just think that personal modesty is a virtue."

John laughed, easing himself to sit on the floor in front of Rodney, one leg kick out and the other one bent. They were still spread and the vee made the eye want to go _there_. "The only virtues you care about are intelligence, not wasting your time, and being honest. Besides, you chew up modest people and spit them out. You only respect the ones that can stand up to you."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "I respect Kusani—Kusa—what's her name from China with the PhD from Cornell. Quantum field theory. One of the few idiots in the department that can actually think without me around to tell her how to do it all the time. She's modest."

"She's Japanese. At least you know she's a girl." John shook his head. "She has a huge crush on you, you know that, right?"

"Doctor Kusanagi. Right whatever. She has a crush on the floor; she keep tripping on it. Makes crappy sandwiches, but only has to be supervised part time."

"Wow. I'm impressed. So what's her first name?"

Rodney frowned at John, wondering if he was being particularly stupid this evening for a reason. "I already told you. It's _Doctor_. Unlike Kavanagh, whose first name is _Idiot_."

"I was wrong, Rodney. You really respect modest people like _Miko_."

"Who?"

"Doctor _Miko_ Kusanagi. The Cornell physicist?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "You're not my human resources manager. And even if you were, I don't care. I treat my people the way they deserve. We'd all be dead now if I held group therapy sessions instead of taking care of important things, like _science_."

"You missed my point, genius."

"I did not!" Rodney straightened up. Even his hair was probably standing straight up in indignation. 

"My point is that you wouldn't respect me if I put my shirt on."

Rodney's mouth gaped. He couldn't help it. He ran the last few minutes of conversation through his mind and couldn't quite get what a quantum field theorist had to do with John's naked— _very naked!_ —chest. It didn't help that John just kept grinning, like he'd beat Ronon in a foot race, or Teyla with her sticks, or Elizabeth out of flight time, or Rodney out of a mental game. Rodney shut his mouth and glared. "Physical modesty has nothing to do with me respecting you!"

"Sure it does. You respect people who are smart, don't waste your time, have integrity, and stand up to you." John tilted his head. "Like me."

Rodney's hands shifted and he had this horrible feeling that he'd somehow lost a debate that he hadn't even known he was in. 

John's grin faded to something softer and more serious. "So, what'd you come here for?"

"Ah," his reason deserted him. "I wanted to let you know that the, uh, power was working fine despite my absence."

John's eyebrows went up.

Rodney glared. "Okay. I wanted to let you know that your idea for revenge was better than just turning off all the hot water to their quarters for eternity, even if they didn't know we did it to them on purpose." 

"We can let them know," John said, leaning back on his hands. It arced his torso, curving his belly into a convex.

"Um. Yeah, we could."

The new position pulled John's belly away from the waistband of his pants a little. Bare flesh went past the pants and disappeared into the band of underwear.

"Rodney?"

Standard white cotton colored underwear, but not the usual boxer style cotton. This was the comfortable combed stuff. 

"Hmm?"

It was hard to tell how tightly the cotton clung to John's flesh beneath his pants, so he couldn't figure out if John had on boxers or briefs.

"What's the real reason you came?"

He just didn't have enough information. He couldn't make a reliable conclusion from the observable data. He had to figure out a way to make John move a little more. "What?"

"Why are you really here?"

Maybe if he casually requested a glass of water? Very nonchalantly, of course. He had to be cool about it. "Boxers or briefs?" He cringed. He wanted to slap himself. "I mean, water. I need some water."

John curled his toes and grinned. "Show me yours and I'll show you mine."

Rodney's groin was palpitating even more than his heart was. His palms were sweaty. He had uncontrollable urges to lick his lips. He really wanted to see John's underwear. "Son of a bitch!"

John frowned. "What?"

"Those three morons were right! We are—" Rodney waved his hand between the two of them.

"We're what?"

"You _know_."

John shook his head. "No, what?"

Rodney's blush crawled all the way to his toes. "Dating?"

John's face screwed up in that way he had when he was playing humor the native and or scientist, as if he really were thinking things over for a minute. After that minute or so, that face smoothed out and John said, "Close enough." He grabbed both of Rodney's wrists and tugged him down to the floor, on top of John. "Took you long enough to figure it out, genius."

"You were in on it from the beginning!"

"In on what?"

"Oh, don't play innocent with me, Colonel." He struggled to get off of John, who wrapped his arms around Rodney's waist and pulled him fully flat, belly to belly. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You colluded with Elizabeth, Carson, and Lorne to make a fool out of me."

John kissed him on the end of the nose. "Nope. I just took advantage of an opportunity."

"But—"

John pulled back, his head pressed against the floor, and peered up at him with a concerned look. "Do you want me, Rodney?"

He huffed in a solid breath of air, ready to blast John with something scathing yet witty. "That's not—"

"Do you?" John asked, then he smirked. The smarmy, Kirkian bastard.

He glared. "I'm not your next little alien princess."

The smirk vanished. "Is that what you think of me?" John's hands went to the floor and he pushed himself up, until they were nose to nose.

Rodney leaned forward that last little bit, until their noses were almost touching. "What am I supposed to think?" 

John didn't say anything for a moment, then he sighed and dropped back onto the floor. "I think you should leave now, Rodney." John rolled, twisting them until Rodney spilled onto the floor and John could extract himself from between Rodney's legs.

Rodney gaped at him. That was John's hurt face. The one that said he was cut all the way to the heart. The face that could get Rodney to apologize almost instantly, something nothing else in two galaxies could ever do. Rodney sat up. "John—"

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, Rodney."

"I'm sor—"

"It's time for you to leave." John stepped away, backing up until he was against the wall. 

"But—"

"Get out." John crossed his arms over his chest and didn't look at him. "We'll just pretend this didn't happen."

Rodney climbed to his feet. He could feel himself shaking inside. He didn't want to pretend this didn't happen. He wanted to fix it. He would fix it. He was the only guy in Atlantis that fixed everything that broke in the city. He squared his shoulders. Except people.

"Please, Rodney, just go."

No. Rodney marched up to John, until he was close enough to lean against him if he wanted to. "You're the most important person in my life," Rodney said. "You always will be."

John jerked, his arms falling away and eyes widening.

"I'm a jerk," Rodney said. Everyone knew that, even him. He prided himself on it, but not with John. "You know that." He took a chance and put his palm on John's cheek. "I'm the smartest man on the planet. I'm smart enough to know when I made a mistake. I'm sorry."

"Rodney," John said.

"I want you." He leaned forward and kissed John.

Their lips clung, just like last time. Then John opened his mouth a little, whether it was to say something or kiss more, Rodney didn't know and really didn't care. He pushed his tongue into John's mouth. He couldn't help the little hum in the back of his throat that followed the action. John tasted like coffee. Rodney hoped he tasted okay. He must have because John opened his mouth wider and his hands crept up, to wrap around Rodney's body. Maybe it was too romance novel with the stupid looking girl and half naked man on the cover, but Rodney put his other hand on John's other cheek. He helped John tilt his head at just the right angle, a pleasant forty-five degrees, hold him still, and caress the fine bones under the skin all at the same time. John hummed, too, and tightened his hug.

Maybe this would work out. Maybe this would be real. 

Rodney closed his eyes and touched John's tongue with his. Sparks flew behind his eyelids, like the first quarks seen in the Stanford linear collider. John's tongue shifted and moved alongside his, rubbing and sliding. Their combined saliva should have lubricated against the friction that rubbing was building up. It should have stopped the burning. It should have kept the heat in his tongue normal, and kept that heat from transferring along his tongue, into his mouth, and down his spine, until he was rubbing his hips against John's hips just to make the friction make sense. 

There was a moment that defined his life, back when his piano teacher told him his technical skills were perfect, but he had no sense of the art. He didn't have the art. He never understood it. But now? His tongue swept over John's palate and he had another defining moment.

John's hands dropped to his ass and pulled him tightly into the cradle of John's hips and the defining moment started slipping from his mind. There was a piano in there somewhere. Maybe it was playing Chopsticks. Like he and John were, with their own chopsticks. He had one and John had one and god, those weren't chopsticks. More like bantos rods, if what he could feel poking him in the belly through John's uniform pants was anything to go by. Oh God, that thing in John's pants was big. Rodney pulled his tongue back to suck in some much needed air and to try to clear his head. It wasn't working.

"Damn, Rodney," John breathed into his mouth, then followed that breath with a tongue.

Rodney heard whimpering, probably from himself, but he couldn't tell because his mouth was full of John's tongue and there was never anything like that no matter how many people he'd kissed in the past. It felt like he was melting on John's tongue. He sucked on John's whole mouth and knew, just knew in that annoying and stupid way that Jeannie had always claimed she just knew that idiot she married was right because she loved him and she knew it would be forever despite all quantitative and qualitative evidence to the contrary, that he had the sense of the art now.


End file.
